


Homemade Dynamite

by pinklights



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Accidental Cat Parents, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Avengers Family, Domestic Avengers, Explicit Language, F/M, Feelings, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Light Angst, No Red Room History, Not Marvel Cinematic Universe Phase Three Compliant, Pining, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Secret Relationship, buckynat - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-08-19 22:30:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20217334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinklights/pseuds/pinklights
Summary: Bucky felt as if he was trapped between a rock and a hard place except the rock was Natasha and the hard place was him realizing that people didn't usually buy their fuck buddies groceriesjust because.---AKA Bucky Barnes gets himself entangled in Natasha Romanoff's web and finds himself feeling comfortable there.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I've been MIA for a bit because I've been experiencing horrible writer's block recently. I wrote this trying to fight it and it just evolved into this whole thing. I know I have a couple of WIPS that need updating but I hope you all enjoy this one! Kudos and comments are much appreciated as always <3

Bucky didn't know how or when it started but he did know that from the moment he met the Black Widow–for real and not just to kill her–they'd both fallen into an odd kind of friendship. They were friendly when there were other people there to serve as buffers but when they were left alone in a room together, they'd grow quiet. It was half awkwardness and half tension, like a bomb stuck just seconds before exploding. 

That is until Tony's New Year's party. She'd gotten drunk on the champagne, him with that Asgardian mead Thor brought. She caught him in the hallway of the Avengers compound looking for an empty bed to crash in. Long story short, he ended up crashing in hers. 

That was a couple of months ago and it would have been easier if it ended there, but it didn't. They'd just gotten back from a high-adrenaline mission when she basically corralled him into an empty washroom. He had her up against the wall, soft sounds floating deliciously by his ear.

They've fallen into a pattern. When she needed it, he'd be there for her and when he did, she would oblige. Sometimes it was at his, most of the time at hers. Bucky didn't usually stay the night but lately, he's been finding it harder and harder to leave. 

He was sitting beside her during a meeting when his hand drifted from his lap to hers. She didn't pay him any attention, making a show of listening to whatever it was Sharon was briefing them about and leaning onto the table on her elbows. His hand moved further up her thigh, dangerously close to the hem of the skirt she was wearing. 

Natasha crossed her legs then, trapping his hand. He panicked for a bit before he saw the corner of her lips turn up. She still refused to acknowledge him but it was enough of a signal for him to pick up on. Sam, who was sitting across the table from them, raised an eyebrow in his direction. Bucky shrugged and leaned back in his seat. 

Twenty minutes after the meeting, he found himself in her car with the same hand much further up her skirt. 

"I hate you," she sighed into her seat, cheeks flushed. 

"Sure, doll."

Forty minutes later, he was lying down in bed—_her_ bed—the afternoon sun peering through her windows and he's never felt so exposed. They usually operated at night when it was easier to hide, but this was different. It felt strange. Was it just him? 

She rose from where she lay beside him, fingers tracing the mark she left on his chest. He was feeling some sort of feeling he couldn't place. In that room, with the bright afternoon sun, she looked even more beautiful than he initially thought. He hadn't noticed the freckles on her nose; they were tiny and light, usually concealed under some sort of make up. He never noticed how blue her bedroom walls were either or how there was a plant near the window. When did she get that? Has it always been there? 

"You look like you've just been fucked senseless," she commented, placing a kiss on his jaw. 

"I  _ was _ just fucked senseless." His arm came around her waist to pull her flush against him. They didn't usually talk after, not like this anyway. She'd usually disappear into the shower and he'd take it as his cue to leave. 

"I like what you did with your hair." She rested her chin on his chest, bright eyes staring at him. He felt so…  _ seen _ , exposed, and not just because he was naked. His hair? Oh yeah, it was shorter now. 

"Yeah? I had to get it cut otherwise you'd yank it off my head." 

"Hey, don't get me started with what you like to do in bed." A smirk appeared on her face, finger tapping on his chin. It wasn't meant to be anything, just a touch, a quirk–like how he'd draw patterns on the small of her back. "But I like it. It looks good."

"As long as you like it," he smiled down at her and pulled her closer to kiss her. It was supposed to be a joke but his sentiments were real. She'd seldom give him compliments outside of the ones she'd moan during sex; this was nice. 

"Well, loverboy, I'm going to take a shower." She pushed herself off of him and didn't bother to cover up as she walked to the en suite. Just before she stepped in, she looked over her shoulder. "You can join me. If you want."

And _oh god_, he did. He was on his feet not a moment later, her laughter echoing in the small room as he ushered her in, hands on her waist as he kissed her neck. Amazingly, they  _ did _ actually manage to get themselves clean in between the kissing and touching. He emerged from her shower smelling like her watermelon body wash and he felt warm inside but he didn’t know what to do after he got dressed. Was he supposed to leave now? Was it okay for him to hang around? 

He was contemplating on putting his shoes on when Natasha came out of her closet with two dresses in her hands, her body still wrapped in a towel. He was so lost. 

“I have this dinner thing with Sharon. Bunch of old important people we need to impress.” Oh. Yeah. He should definitely leave. “Black or green?”

“Uh, I think you’d look good in either.”

Natasha smirked and draped the green one against her body. “Good answer.”

“Thanks?” He was a complete loss. Not only was this new for him but he also didn’t understand what was going on, like, in general. Natasha disappeared into her closet again and he just sat there on the bed, eyes looking around her room.

“Hey, should I—”

“Can you zip me up?” She came out of the closet with a totally different dress on—a red dress that hugged her curves in the best ways. She stood in front of the full-length mirror by the bathroom door, her back to him. Without a second thought, he was on his feet and right behind her. 

“This wasn’t one of the options.” He zipped her up slowly, the exposed skin on her neck tempting. He settled for resting his hands on her waist.

Natasha leaned back against him, tilting her head to the side to show more of her neck. He took the invitation and placed a kiss there. “You don’t like it?”

“I like it. Zipping it up was a challenge, though.” He trailed his lips down her shoulder. “Should I go?”

“If you want to.”

The Black Widow has always been confusing but Bucky has never been more confused in his life. What did_ that_ mean? It was so much easier when they didn’t talk after sex.

“If I don't?" He raised an eyebrow and looked at her through the mirror, still hunched over as his lips hovered over the back of her ear.

"Then you'll get to take this off when I come back." 

Natasha told him to feed the cat. He didn't even know she had a cat. Apparently, it wasn't even hers, but it comes by every night and she feeds it on the fire escape outside her window. That's where the cat sleeps. She's even created a makeshift bed out of an old towel. 

He lingered in her apartment, waiting for her to come back. She said she'd be gone for three hours, four tops. She gave him permission to use her Netflix but to not mess up her shows. There were so many things he was learning about her in her absence. 

One: her apartment was mostly empty. There were a couple of house plants here and there, a couple of them were dying. There was one expensive painting hanging above her mantle and that was it.

Two: she liked watching documentaries. He made sure not to touch them as he browsed through her Netflix catalog. He's already watched as much as he could as per Sam's insistence. Nothing interested him and he moved on to browse the singular bookshelf she had. 

Three: so much has been written since the time he was put under ice until now but apparently, Natasha didn't care about modern literature. She kept old dusty books in multiple languages. _What a nerd. _

Four: her kitchen was empty save for bottles of water and a half-eaten granola bar. He was actually sad. The cat had more food than she did. After making sure the stray was fed, Bucky set out on a mission. Find food. 

The nearest supermarket was two blocks away. Not thirty minutes later, he was making his way up her apartment building and stocking her pantry. He got her the very basics for human habitation—eggs, milk, more of those granola bars. He got bacon, he was sure he's seen her eat that off of Sam's breakfast plate once. 

He was in the middle of putting away the grocery bags when he heard the door to her apartment open, soon followed by heels being kicked off, knocking on the hardwood floor. 

"James?" She called out. She's been calling him that for a couple of weeks now. It wasn't _Bucky_ but it was definitely better than_ Barnes_. She eventually found him in the kitchen. She looked as beautiful as the moment she left. Hardly a hair out of place.

"How was the dinner?" 

"_Boring_. If it wasn't illegal, I would have killed at least three people tonight. Politicians are the scum of this earth." Natasha walked past him to the fridge, probably to get some water but she paused and turned to him, a quizzical look on her face. "What's this?" 

"Uh… food?" 

"I can see that. _Why_ is it there?" 

Probably for the millionth time that day, Bucky Barnes—the fucking  _ Winter Soldier _ himself—was at a loss. He probably did overstep his boundaries but in his mind, he was helping. When he didn't answer, Natasha turned back to the fridge and grabbed a water bottle, chugging it until it was empty before pushing past him to her bedroom. 

_ Did he fuck up? _ He hadn't realized that he had asked the question out loud until she marched right back out of her room with a  _ look _ on her face. 

"What?" 

"Did I… fuck up?" 

She furrowed her brows and walked over to where he hovered by the doorway that led to the kitchen. "No. No… I'm just… it's kind of weird."

"I'm sorry." 

"Don't apologize. I mean, thank you but I can take care of myself." 

"I'm not saying that you can't. It's just—the cat has more food than you do, Natasha." 

"I eat out and I'm never around." 

"Still. Your fridge looked like one of those display fridges in department stores." 

" _ James _ , why the hell are we having this conversation? I appreciate the concern, really, I just  _ don't _ need it." 

It was Bucky's turn to frown. He felt like he was trapped between a rock and a hard place except the rock was Natasha and the hard place was him realizing people didn't usually buy their fuck buddies groceries  _ just because _ . 

"I'll go." 

"James—"  He walked past her to the door, slipping into his boots as she hovered around him. "You don't have to go." 

"I think I do." Bucky reached for the doorknob and looked back at her. "Sorry for the inconvenience." 

He was gone before she could reply. He took the stairs—seven floors were nothing to him—and disappeared into the night. Bucky's never been this conflicted in a long time. Yeah, he definitely fucked up, but he also figured out where he stood in her eyes—at a distance. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the kudos and comments! I really appreciate each one of them so much and I love when you guys leave messages <3

Bucky liked doing his job. He’s been working on trying to do right in the world by helping people and it’s been pretty fulfilling so far. Of course, working in the shadows parallel to Captain America had its perks. People didn’t pay him that much attention, most people didn’t even know he _existed_ and he was A-Okay with Steve getting the limelight. He didn’t need it as long as what he was doing was _right._

These days, he worked in a team with Sam and Steve and would go out on extended missions together. This last one lasted almost a full month. That was a month of them trying to survive in the cold Russian tundra. He was used to it. The other two, not so much. The op was finished but they decided to stay for another day just to recuperate and take a breather before going back to work. The small Russian town at the edge of civilization they were in was quiet. No one bothered them, which was great.

“Russians man,” Sam quipped, nursing a coffee in his hands. They were cooped up in a small coffee shop in the little town. Bucky had to order for all of them and he was tempted to fuck up their food just for the heck of it. “How’d they survive this place?”

“Insulated clothes, heat-tech.” Bucky shrugged and carried on eating his lunch. It wasn’t the best stroganoff he’s had but it was hot and that was all that mattered. “Besides, it’s not that bad.”

“Says the man who spent a hundred years in literal_ Siberia_.”

Steve who’s been busy typing away on his phone finally chimed in. “I also spent years in actual ice but this is different.”

“It’s going to be spring soon. This isn’t even the coldest time of the year.” 

“That's what Natasha said, too.” At that, he froze--only for a split second but Sam narrowed his eyes at him anyway. He carried on with his lunch and Steve continued. “I asked her how to keep warm and she told me to just suck it up.”

“Well, that’s what we’ve been doing.” Sam took a long sip of his coffee, eyes on Bucky for a while before turning to Steve beside him. “She been texting?”

“She’s asking when we’re coming back.”

“Why?” 

“Dunno.”

Bucky listened in silence, suddenly a hundred times more focused on the food he was eating, as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. He hasn’t spoken to her since that day he left her apartment. He wasn’t sure what happened that night or if what he did was right but he’s been avoiding running into her. Maybe she’s been avoiding him, too.

Steve’s phone vibrated on the table again. What time was it wherever she was? It must have been at least two in the morning if she was at home. Of course, that’s never stopped her from being awake before. Sam complained about the weather some more and Steve continued texting. Apparently, she wanted them to drop by someplace to get her this specific brand of liquor and chocolates that she liked. Steve was more than happy to oblige while Sam groaned. Bucky, again, stayed quiet. 

When they landed on the tarmac in New York, she was there, red hair and red lips and everything. He’s never wanted to kiss her more than in that moment but he hung back and focused on carrying his stuff back inside. She smiled at the bag of chocolates Steve got her and he wished so badly that she’d smile in his direction too but it didn’t come. While Steve and Natasha went on to talk about Russian weather, Sam fell back as well.

“What’s up?”

“What?”

“You and Romanoff.” God, this was the one thing he didn’t like about Sam. He noticed _everything_. “Y’all ain’t so slick, by the way. Especially you.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Sam.”

“All I’m saying is that’s a tightrope you’re walking on.”

Bucky sighed and shook his head. Of course he knew this. Natasha was unlike any woman he’s ever met. Thankfully, Sam dropped it when the four of them crammed together in an elevator. He tried so hard not to sneak glances but he couldn’t help it. Meanwhile, she was unbothered by his presence. Was that it? Did they end things over him buying her groceries? What_ things _were even there? They were just two people who occasionally stumbled into bed together; they weren’t in any sort of relationship.

He convinced himself this as he took his shower. He spent most of his night trying to make his place habitable. There were far too many books on the floor in stacks, his couch was dusty as fuck, and he forgot to throw out the food from the fridge before he left. When everything looked mildly clean, he jumped under the hottest shower he’s taken in weeks. Russia was familiar territory but it was still so fucking cold. The only warmth he's gotten out of Russia was nestling in between Natasha’s--

Bucky paused in the middle of shampooing when he thought he heard something outside. He stilled and listened but heard nothing more. He was probably just thinking too much. He lived in an apartment building that was a little too old but he liked it, it felt familiar-–almost like a home. When he was done drying off, he wrapped a towel around his waist and headed for his bedroom only to stop in his tracks when he found someone sitting on his couch. 

“_Jesus Christ,_” he muttered. Natasha was sitting there as if she owned the place, with her knees crossed over each other. On his coffee table was the bottle of vodka she’d asked Steve to buy, as well as the chocolates. “What the hell?”

“The spare key under the rug thing isn’t very smart.” 

He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. “What are you doing here, Natasha?” 

“I need someone to drink this with.” How could she look so comfortable where she was sitting as if nothing had happened? Was that tension between them all inside his head? “Sharon doesn’t like vodka and Bobbi’s out of town.”

“So what, I’m your _ reserve? _” He didn’t wait for her to reply and instead slipped into his bedroom so that he could get some clothes on his back. Usually, he’d be absolutely fine walking around naked with her there but this wasn't one of those times. Whatever happened at her apartment that night created another layer of confusion in his mind.

“Don’t be like that.” She whined from the living room. “I _ missed _ you.”

_ That _ was different. Bucky shrugged and proceeded to put some clothes on-–a pair of sweatpants and an old shirt. He wanted to go to sleep but now she was there and he doubted that he could make her leave easily. She was determined to achieve _something_, he just didn’t know what. She startled him again when she appeared in his doorway. They said the Winter Soldier was a ghost but there _ she _ was appearing out of thin air. He cursed under his breath again and tried to move past her but it was no use.

“Natasha–”

“I was going to ask _you_ to pick up the booze but you’ve been avoiding me,” she said. “Why is that?”

She _ knew _ why. This was just her trying to torture him. He could say that he wasn’t avoiding her but lying to a walking lie detector was useless. As much as he was trained to withstand the most brutal of tortures, he couldn’t lie to her. She’d only see right through him. “Didn’t think you’d want to see me.”

“Why not?”

He shrugged and looked away. Natasha came forth and placed a hand on his chest, another rested on his jaw, making him look at her. “Are you mad at me?”

“No,” he said a little too quickly. “You just confuse me.”

A beat. “Do you want me to leave?” 

Bucky shook his head and placed his hand on top of where hers was on his cheek before pushing it away. “Let’s have that drink.”

He brought out glasses and they sat on the couch. Natasha crossed her legs underneath her as she leaned against the back of the sofa and listened to him talk about the mission. He also told her about how stupid Sam and Steve looked in Russia and she laughed. He missed the sound of it, he realized then. As much as he tried not to think about her during the month that he was gone, he did. All he wanted to do was close the space between them but he remained on his end.

Bucky also shared how he had to order the vodka for Steve because the little Russian the Star Spangled man knew wasn’t sufficient enough and he ended up asking for potato juice so technically, he _ did _bring the booze. She smiled and said her thanks, lifting her glass to him before taking another sip.

“Do you miss it? Home?”

Natasha shook her head and finished off her drink. “It’s not my home anymore.”

“I get that.” He nodded. “I thought Brooklyn was going to feel like home but it’s not the same anymore.”

She agreed and looked contemplative for a bit then reached for the bar of chocolate that has been sitting on his coffee table, ignored for the most part of the night. What time was it? He didn’t know. He felt as if he’s been speaking for hours but she was engaged in conversation the whole time as if the last time they spoke didn’t happen at all. Why hadn’t they started with this in the first place?

Natasha broke off a piece of the chocolate and handed it to him before taking her own piece and popping it into her mouth. She looked satisfied but when he did the same, he felt like dust caught in his throat. “This is so fucking bitter.”

“That’s what the vodka is for.”

He reached for the bottle and refilled his glass before downing the whole thing. It barely made a dent in his sobriety but it did help with the bitterness. “You’re so strange, you know that?”

“Wow, you really know how to flatter a girl, Barnes.” Her cheeks were a little red; if it was because of the alcohol or something else, he didn’t really know. 

They fell into a silence after that, just the two of them sitting there eating chocolate and drinking vodka like it was some weird bonding exercise. Bucky hasn’t had a lot of experience with women in the 21st century but he was willing to bet that none of them were as confusing and dumbfounding as Natasha was.

“Did you really miss me?” He blurted out after a while. The only way to get information from her was to ask. He was usually better at mind games than this but she was the master of that craft. Thankfully, as vague as her answers were, he found hints of truth in them.

“I had to stop myself from jumping you at the airport so I guess so.”

“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow at her. “And now?”

“Still exercising restraint,” She placed the chocolate bar and her glass on the table gently before leaning back against the arm of the couch. “I thought you’d kick me out.”

“I thought I would, too, to be honest.”

“You said you weren’t mad.”

“I’m not. I'm _confused. _I told you so.”

Natasha pushed herself off her side of the couch and moved towards him, taking his glass and setting it on the table carefully before she settled on his lap. And Bucky let her do this because it was also taking so much of him not to touch her. His hands went to her hips instantly while hers rested on his shoulders. He could smell her perfume and a hint of her watermelon body wash. 

“What are you confused about?” 

“Us.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer against him. “This.”

“Hmm?” Her voice was low as he ducked her head to kiss his jaw. “Do you not like-_ this? _”

“You know I do.” He felt her lips trail down to his neck, leaving lingering kisses there. “Natasha.”

“James.” She moved her hips against him and pulled him into a kiss. It wasn’t as hard or as urgent as he was expecting it to be but it was no less passionate. She tasted like vodka and chocolate and everything he could ever ask for in a woman. Her lips were soft but her kisses were not. Maybe she _ did _ miss him. 

He made quick work of her sweater, palming at her breasts as her hips ground against his crotch. A breathy moan escaped her lips and he felt himself growing harder with each passing second. She knew exactly how to work him up. 

“James,” she whispered against his ear, teeth scratching against his skin there. “I_ need _ you.”

Bucky wasted no time picking her up and carrying her to the bedroom. As confusing as whatever relationship they had was, he did know one thing–-how to make her happy in bed. The vodka and chocolate were forgotten on the coffee table as he made a home for himself between her legs. He missed every single inch of her body and dedicated time to make sure she knew just how much. He made sure she felt worshipped because she was. Confusing? Fuck yes. But he was drawn to her anyway, as if his sole purpose was to make sure she was satisfied. Natasha paid in kind and Bucky was sure he was going to die in her hands but he managed to make it out alive. 

They fell beside each other with nothing but the sounds of their breathing between them. When he woke up the next morning, he was sure she’d be gone, that last night was just her needing him to scratch an itch. He woke up alone in bed, the space beside him empty and cold. He was right, because of course he was. No amount of talking and drinking would change the fact that they weren’t in one of those traditional relationships.

Except--

He heard something outside of his bedroom-–music? Bucky got up and slipped into his sweatpants from last night before heading out to investigate. He could smell coffee brewing. He didn’t even know he still had coffee. When he emerged into the living room, there Natasha was–-dressed in the shirt she took off of him the night before–-sitting on his couch and reading one of his books._ This _ was definitely different.


	3. Chapter 3

“The cat has a name now.” 

Natasha was in the middle of fixing breakfast when Bucky spotted her unofficial cat outside her window. He opened it to pet it and it purred against his metal fingers. His unofficial girlfriend slash bedmate was in the kitchen. She insisted that she cooked. Apparently, she had food now and wanted to show off. He didn’t even know she knew _ how _ to cook. Then again, it was just breakfast. 

“What’s her name?” He called out, picking up the cat in his arms to pet it some more as he walked towards the kitchen.

“_ Liho. _” She looked over her shoulder and made a face at him. “Why’d you bring her in? She’s filthy.”

“That’s literally unfortunate.” Bucky snuggled the cat closer against himself, its little paws scratching against his fingers. “Well, maybe we could give her a bath.”

“I’m not giving a street cat a bath, James.” Natasha turned back to whatever it was she was cooking. It smelled like bacon. There was already a plate of eggs beside her and a stack of toast beside that. Coffee was brewing in the pot. Maybe this arrangement wasn’t so bad after all.

“We can take her to the groomers. Apparently, that’s a thing now.”

He’s grown quite fond of the cat in the couple of times he’s seen her. He reached over the cupboard where Natasha kept the cat food and trailed back to the window that led to the fire escape to feed it. Lucky cat. 

After breakfast, Natasha agreed to take Liho to the groomers after the cat started mewling against her legs. It was a small victory for Bucky but being able to take her out was one of the things he’s been thinking of doing ever since that night at his place. That was a couple of weeks ago now and he still hasn’t asked her out on a proper _ date _ , mostly because he was terrified. He knew certain things have shifted in their relationship — one of them being that they actually acted like they were _ in _ one now and not just fuck-and-go friends — but he was afraid that she wasn’t ready for all of that yet. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if _ he _ was.

Just the other night, he woke up from one of the worst nightmares he’s had in a long time and she had to hold him down to keep himself from clawing at his arm. Natasha didn’t seem too phased by it but he couldn’t make her commit to all of the baggage he had. He knew she had them, too, but she kept hers better than he did.

They bought the cat a carrier, some toys, an actual food bowl, more food, and got her the shots she needed as well. Apparently, the groomers down the street was connected to a clinic and a pet shop. Natasha rolled her eyes the whole time and had to talk him out of buying more shit the cat didn’t need. She had to remind Bucky that Liho was a street cat despite her having a name and a regular feeding schedule.

Natasha carried the bag of cat goods while he carried the carrier with their newly pampered cat was in. He tried to figure out what he was going to do with his other hand as it kept grazing against her awkwardly; he was about to shove it into his jacket pocket when her hand slipped into his. Bucky looked over at her, surprised, but she kept her eyes straight ahead as if holding his hand was the most natural thing she’s ever done; as if she's done it a hundred times. 

At that moment, Bucky was half-convinced he was dreaming and half-convinced he was falling in love and he hated himself so much because of it. What they had was good and he was about to ruin it with feelings.

“So, Tony’s planning on having everyone come over to Malibu this summer. He used to live there, you know.” They were at the cafe around her block, Liho sleeping in her carrier. “And I was thinking we could ditch _ that _ and go to Greece instead.”

“Greece?” This was news. “What about the others?”

“I can get out of it if I tell them I have a mission. I don’t know what your excuse is going to be. Plus, you haven’t seen me in a bikini yet.” A smirk curled at the corner of her lips as she leaned onto her elbows on the table. 

“I’ve seen you _ naked _, I don’t know what a bikini would do.”

“Oh, you’ll _ see _ what it’d do.” She took a sip of her cappuccino and revealed nothing else. 

It turned out that Tony Stark accepted no excuses from either of them and insisted that the gang gathered together at his brand new beach house in Malibu to celebrate… _ something. _ Bucky didn’t quite catch all the details during their flight over, too distracted by Natasha’s display of legs, which she made a show of crossing as she sat across from him in the private plane. 

“Haven’t been to Malibu in a while. Right, _ Miss Rushman? _” Tony started as they arrived at multi-million dollar property. 

Natasha rolled her eyes as she pushed her sunglasses up her nose. “I _ will _kill you.”

Bucky seemed to be the only person confused about this. The shorter man put an arm around him and laughed. “Right. _ You _ haven’t met Natalie Rushman. Quite a secretary.” 

Steve groaned. The others explored the house as Tony pulled out his phone to show him pictures of Natasha in lingerie. Why Tony Stark had photos of Natasha in lingerie, he didn’t know, but the photos themselves looked…

“It was for a cover,” the redhead explained.

“She _ conned _ me. She also spoke to me in Latin. Who _ speaks _Latin?”

“I do.” Bucky deadpanned, much to Natasha’s amusement. Tony let go of his grip and rolled his eyes. “What? I learned it in school.”

“Of _ course _ you did, you Crood. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to make sure that Wilson hasn’t called dibs on the master suite.”

Bucky watched as Tony jogged up the stairs. Distracted, he didn’t notice how Natasha moved closer towards him until she had her hand on his arm, the touch soft. California sun looked good on her already. He kissed the top of her head just as Wanda called for Natasha upstairs. Apparently, she’s found their rooms. He kissed her quickly before she had to leave him.

When he saw her again, she was by the pool with the others, soaking up some sun in the most ridiculous piece of ‘clothing’ he’s ever seen her in. It turns out that she was right about her wearing a bikini. What he didn’t appreciate was the fact that there were far too many people around them when all he wanted was to hoist her onto his shoulder and carry her back to his room.

By then, they were both good at pretending like they weren’t sleeping with each other but it was so difficult not to stare. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one staring.

“How is _ that _mission going, Barnes?” Sam handed him a beer and took a swig of his. It was far too early to be drinking but the cold beverage was a wanted distraction.

“Still don’t know what you’re talking about, Wilson.”

“_ Sure. _So you wouldn’t mind if I made a move then.”

Bucky’s turned to look at Sam so quickly that he actually felt whiplash. The asshole was laughing in his face. “I fucking hate you.”

“Listen man, if you need dating tips from this century, all you gotta do is ask.” 

Bucky grumbled, “I don’t need dating tips.”

“First, you won’t get anywhere with that if you don’t talk to her so talk to her. And then ask her out, you know, to dinner or some shit. Take her somewhere fancy and show her off.”

Bucky took a swig of his drink and leaned back in his seat. Sam took this as his cue to continue speaking, not that anything else would have deterred him from doing so. “And third, you gotta figure out what to do with the big guy when he finds out you’ve been making moves on his old girl.”

“Big guy?”

“Oh, right. You haven’t met. Big green guy who’s also a _ genius _. They were a thing a while back before he disappeared. Don’t know where. Don’t think she knows either.”

Natasha had a big green genius boyfriend? Great. What else did he not know about her that apparently everyone else knew? They’ve been spending time together—not just in bed but outside of it too. They even got Liho a new scratch post because she was scratching up the house plants. They were… a _ thing _. Sure, no one but them knew, but that didn’t matter...did it? 

As dinner dragged on, Bucky realized that Tony just wanted to go on vacation with everyone. Apparently, his wife–the nice lady who kept inviting Bucky to things–was going to be flying in the next day to join them and then they’d start celebrating whatever it was they came there to celebrate. Dinner was a barbeque by the pool. He’d been hanging out with Sam and Steve all day that when Natasha placed herself in between him and the bird-man, he had to take a minute to realize what was happening. Sam gave him a look and made an excuse to get some more beer. Steve went off to find Sharon. Apparently, she brought reinforcements, whatever that was.

“You have the beginnings of sunburn on your shoulders. I told you to put on sunscreen.”

“I did.” He shrugged. “You’re all red, too.”

“I’m _ not _ sunburnt.” Natasha made a face at him and snatched his beer from his hands to drink from it. He panicked again and looked around. It seemed like everyone’s broken off into fractions and no one was paying close enough attention to them which was good but what if someone had seen? They barely talked when they were around other people and her being this close, looking the way she did, wasn’t a regular occurrence. 

“Did you like my swimwear of choice?”

Bucky had to chuckle, the image of her in a tiny little thing by the pool came flashing before his eyes and he needed to stop himself from grinning. “You’re a tease, you know that?”

“It’s only day one of the trip, James, don’t tell me you’re already having a_ hard time _.”

“Jesus Christ,” he ran his hand over his face and swiped his beer back to finish it off. Again, not a dent in his sobriety and he’s been drinking it since that afternoon. There were times when he wished alcohol had much more of an effect on him since it mostly made him tipsy at best and this was one of those times. She’d already changed into a light summer dress for the evening but he couldn’t shake the bikini image off. 

“So, why does Sam keep glancing over here like he’s a five-year-old with a secret?” 

Bucky looked for Sam’s reflection in the bottle he was holding and sure enough, he was by the loungers with another beer and a smirk on his face. At least_ he _ was getting drunk. 

“He’s been giving me dating advice.” 

“Really? You got an eye on someone?” She raised an eyebrow at him, as if she was genuinely curious who it was Sam was helping him with, as if she was completely oblivious to the fact that she was the only woman he’s been with for months now. 

“_ Natasha _.”

She finally broke out into a smile but he still wasn’t sure if she was serious or not about the previous question. Even after all this time, she was still confusing. “Okay, tell me. What dating advice did he give?”

“It was more like dating _ procedures _ than advice. Ask the girl out to dinner, try not to look stupid during the dinner, watch out for the girl’s big, green ex-boyfriend.”

Her smile faded at that as if she’d realized more than one thing at the same time. “Hmm,” she nodded. “Bruce and I were never a_ thing _.”

“Apparently, you were.”

“I never slept with him if that’s what you’re asking.” Her face was neutral but her tone was harsh. He’d obviously stepped into a subject that she wasn’t very comfortable talking about but he’d been curious about it all day. Where better to ask than straight from the source?

“You don’t need to get defensive. I was just trying to figure it out.”

“Figure what out?”

“Where I stood with you.”

“Reinforcements!” Sharon announced as Steve brought in a whole cooler of harder liquor. The blonde Carter immediately gravitated towards Natasha and dragged her along, leaving Bucky without an answer. Sam was right. Getting involved with the Black Widow was walking on a tightrope and at that moment, he felt like he was about to fall. 

Natasha never managed to escape her friends as they handed her a new drink and started blasting the music. Tony handed Bucky another drink—it was an entire bottle of whiskey, sure, but it was better than beer. At least he got to feel it burning down his throat. 

They were in the middle of getting Clint Barton drunk when Bucky decided to turn in. A heavy feeling settled on his chest and he didn’t like being around people when that happened. He opted to be alone in his room, a singular lamp turned on while he smoked by the window. He hasn’t smoked in a while, hadn’t felt the need to.

“James,” he heard someone whisper outside his door. A soft knock followed. “James, let me in.”

Bucky disposed of his cigarette and got onto his feet knowing who the voice on the other side of his door belonged to. He knew all too well. When he opened the door, Natasha stumbled inside and immediately closed the door behind her. She was definitely drunk. He could smell the tequila off of her.

“Nat—” 

“Shhh.” She covered his mouth with her hand and switched their places so that he would be the one up against the door. He nodded and peeled her hand away and she just stood there for a while. He could see the gears turning behind her eyes as she thought of what to say. 

“Tasha—”

“I don’t want you to think about Bruce.” She refused to look him in the eye, focusing her gaze on his chest instead. 

“What—”

“If- if- if he magically appeared out of nowhere and came back then good, it means he’s _ alive. _ He’s one of our _ friends _ and I want him to be safe. But I won’t run into his arms and leave you in the dust. That’s not who I am and I thought you trusted me more than that.”

Bucky held onto her arms so that she’d stop fidgeting and look at him. When her eyes met his, she stepped back, as if she was surprised she was even there. 

“_ James _ ,” she whispered and stepped back into his arms. She reached up on her toes to give him a kiss —soft and quick. “You’re _ not _ a reserve.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is going to be one of the very _very_ few times I'm acknowledging Br*tasha happened. Thank you all so much for the kudos! Don't forget to leave comments and tell me what you think! <3


	4. Chapter 4

Natasha fell asleep in Bucky's bed that night but nothing happened between them even after she got him out of his shirt and half hard. He was too overwhelmed and she was too drunk. It wouldn't have been fun for anyone. He caught her sneaking out early the next morning but he didn't try to make her stay either. Being in a house full of Avengers wasn't as fun when all he wanted was to spend more time alone with her. 

The rest of the weekend flew by a bit more smoothly than he anticipated but he never got to speak to Natasha alone for more than a couple of minutes—just her making sure he didn’t burn or to show off her bikinis. Apparently, they came in a variety of colors and she was asking which one he liked best (he liked the blue one with the white polka dots she wore on the last day). They planned to rendezvous in one of the rooms but it was virtually impossible to sneak around_ anyone _. Plus, Tony was doing a headcount every ten minutes. 

When they finally got back to hot and humid New York, they barely got time to unpack before they were sent on an op. Hydra was one big evil thing that just won’t give up. Despite being exposed to the world, they still managed to spread underground. One of the informants relayed that they’ve been building up arms and recruiting again. Why people would willingly fight for such garbage was beyond him and he wasn’t really in a position to ask questions. 

Bucky, Sam, and Steve already knew how to fight alongside each other. They were good, fast, but they were way more efficient when Natasha was with them. She didn’t waste time, needing only her hands to take down men twice her size. Bucky was awestruck for a moment as she took point in the Hydra base they’ve infiltrated. He hung back, a better weapon from a distance while Steve and Sam split up from them. There were far too many people for it not to be an ambush. The facility looked brand new, squeaky clean. What they were there for was a man who apparently knew where the other new Hydra bases were but finding him was looking pretty bleak. Too many soldiers, not a lot of intel.

The team rendezvoused in the East quadrant where the base of operations was supposed to be according to the blueprint they were shown but what greeted them as they opened the metal doors was a loud explosion. Hydra agents were surrounding them within seconds, Natasha was already calling for backup. This was way too much than the four of them could handle, super soldiers or not. 

“We need to go back the other way,” Sam called out, checking on his little metal bird. “Follow Redwing.”

Natasha and Steve nodded, checking on each other as Sam led the way. Steve followed closely, eliminating Hydra agents that came at them from the exit they were about to take. Alarms and various other beeping were blocking his hearing, he could barely hear them talking through the comms.

The Widow fell back, zapping two men with her bites before reaching for her gun and finishing off the rest of the mob around her. There were fewer men now, making them much easier to dispose of. He cleaned them off, two at a time, then singles, and when he looked back at Natasha who was wrestling with one of the few people left, his eye caught a red dot on her chest.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck _ fuck _ ** _ fuck._ **

She brought down the man triumphantly and Bucky charged in her direction, eyes scrambling around them to find where the sniper was hiding. When he spotted him, it was too late. The red dot was on_ him _, Natasha stumbling behind him as he pushed her away. And then, a sharp, searing pain blossomed in his chest. 

The last thing he heard as he lay on the floor, vision dark and blurry, was Natasha screaming for Sam and Steve, practically _ shrieking _ . He felt a pressure where he was shot; her hands tried so hard to keep the blood from seeping away from him. He moved only to reach for her but everything hurt _ so much _ . He could tell that she didn’t see that coming. _ He _ didn’t either.

When Bucky awakened, it was with a jolt. He felt his whole body attempt to jump awake but he couldn’t move all that much. He squinted at the bright lights that surrounded him and decided to close his eyes again; sleep was tempting despite the fact that he’s just woken up. With his eyes closed, he heard bodies shuffling.

“Oh, sweet baby Jesus. He’s alive.” It was definitely Sam. He could recognize the asshole’s voice from a mile away. 

“I’m going to call the Doctor.” _ Steve _. A weight leaned over the railing of his hospital bed before it disappeared, heavy footsteps speeding away. Bucky tried to open his eyes again when Sam tapped on his arm, shaking him a bit.

“You alright?” He sat down where Bucky didn't have to strain to see him. “Do you know how bad you made us look pulling a stupid hero-move like that?”

“N—” his throat hurt and his mouth was dry. “Water.”

“Right.” Sam scrambled around to find water and he closed his eyes again, only prompted awake when Sam returned with water for him. He downed the whole glass and moved up the bed so he could sit, hissing at the pain in his chest.

“What happened?” He was able to open his eyes a little better now. He was in a fancy hospital room, wires and tubes connected to him. He felt like absolute shit.

“You got shot, _ hero _. You nearly died. Thank god, reinforcements were on the way already and you were transported out of there quickly.”

He tried to remember what happened but all he could remember was what he _ felt _. He's never been that scared in his life. The thought of her being a target, of her taking that bullet—the possibility of her death was something he never considered until that very moment and it terrified him. "Natasha? Is she okay?" 

“She was here all day yesterday, fighting you in your sleep. But man, you should have seen her that day. I’ve never seen her so scared, Buck. She’s the Black fucking Widow dude, I thought nothing did that. But you—oh, she’s going to kill you.”

Bucky leaned back and closed his eyes, trying to make sense of whatever Sam was telling him. He was_ sure_ Natasha was going to kill him, that was a _given_, but he couldn’t give a shit about that. “Was she hurt?”

“No, _ dude _ , seriously. You. Almost. Died. Whatever that bullet was—it was laced with something. Had to fly in fancy ass doctors to get it out of your system. Do you know how long you’ve been out?” He shook his head but Sam didn’t wait for a reply. “Eight days. You’ve been here eight days. Every person you know has visited you, _ some _ more than once. You can open your own flower shop here.”

Sam gestured to his bedside table; various flower arrangements sat there and on the floor. There was a big stuffed bear sitting on the couch. He didn’t know he knew this many people or that people even cared to visit him. It was... strange. Not necessarily bad but just different. Half of the flowers seemed to have been from various SHIELD departments, some from Stark Industries. A single rose rested on the edge of the table and he knew immediately who it was from.

Steve walked in with doctors trailing closely behind him. The doctors checked on him and reported that his vitals were normal and he was stable, which he already knew he was. It would take a couple of days before he’d feel better, they said. What was important was that he was alive and awake.

“Buck. You’re okay. They’ve taken out whatever chemical it was that they laced the bullets with. Took a sample back to the lab to examine it.” He had his Captain America voice on for that spiel, and then, after the doctors have gone, “You’re a fucking asshole, you know that?”

“_ I _ almost died and people are fighting _ me? _”

“Because you were in over your head! And Natasha… oh, Buck. The blood was everywhere, I thought I lost _ both _ of you!”

“Well, you can’t get rid of me that easily, pal,” Bucky tried to smile but his muscles felt weak. 

The pain meds and whatever else they gave him made him sleepy though. After they gave him something to eat, he passed out again. He was so tired. 

He doesn't know how many hours he's been sleeping, if he's slept for days again, but when he came to he felt a weight on his hand. He couldn't move it. He flexed his fingers and slipped from the vice and when he looked down, a head of red hair greeted him. He would have smiled if it didn't hurt. Instead, he attempted to stroke Natasha's hair. He got away with it for a few seconds before she got up.

She just looked at him for a while. He braced himself for something, _anything_, but not the tears that were welling up in her eyes. No amount of preparation readied him for the sight of her crying. Surely, this was some sort of dream because he's never seen her cry _ ever _. Didn't even know she was capable of it. 

“Hey,” he greeted, voice rough. “So… I lived.” 

He grinned, which was a mistake because Natasha’s first response to seeing his teeth was to hit his arm. “I fucking hate you.”

“Nat—”

“You almost died!”

“I’m_ aware_.”

“You’re such an idiot! Why did you do that?” Natasha's voice was coarse as she tried her best to pull the tears back. He didn’t want to think about the possibility that she’s been crying all this time. “What kind of fucking brain must you carry in your head to step in front of a bullet? And for what? What did it get you? What did you gain from it?”

Bucky reached out for her hand and squeezed it as tight as he could. “_You_.”

“No. You don’t get to do that. You don’t—I would have been fine. I would have handled it!”

“Natasha, you wouldn’t have been able to handle anything if you were dead!”

“I hate you.”

“I know. I heard you the first time.”

She furiously wiped the couple of tears that escaped her and stood up, facing away from him. “I thought you were dead. I thought you were—” She was still wiping them away, refusing to let him see her have_ actual emotions_. He wished she wouldn’t hide from him, wished she knew that she could trust him with _ things _ , like her _ feelings _. 

“Hey... I’m here. I’m fine.” Bucky shifted in his bed so that he could sit up. He was feeling better now than the first time he woke up. His extremities didn’t ache as much. Most of the pain was concentrated in his chest but that was expected. 

“And if you died for _ me? _ That would have fucking killed me, James.” Natasha kept her back to him. He tried reaching for her but he couldn’t. 

“Didn’t know you cared this much, Tasha. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you have_ feelings _ for me or something.” He was trying to joke but then she glared at him and hit his arm again. “Ow! What was that for?”

“I _ held your _ fucking _ hand _, idiot.”

Bucky furrowed his brows, confused—because _ of course _ he was when it came to her. The pain killers didn’t help either.

“You have a toothbrush in my bathroom, a preferred mug in my kitchen—I made sure you put on your fucking sunscreen.” Natasha’s tears have stopped but her eyes were still red and puffy and he wanted nothing more than to hold her but he was confined to bed by wires and tubes. “I asked you to go to Greece. Greece! You think I just do that? Ask people to go on trips with me?”

He thinks he understands where she was going with this but he was still apprehensive. “Nat—”

She sank back into the chair and took his hand in both of hers. “Do you honestly think I don’t care? Do you really not know me at all? Just because I don't doodle your name in my notebook and send you heart emojis, doesn't mean that I don't care."

“Never said you didn’t.”

“_ Right _ .” She rolled her eyes. “I had to tell you in the middle of the night not to worry about a _ fling _ I had, to reassure you that I’m in this thing _ with you _ . You think I don’t get scared? That _ this _doesn’t scare me? It scares the fuck out of me.”

“I didn’t know.”

“Because I didn’t say?”

Bucky nodded, feeling like a bigger idiot than he already was. “I’m sorry.”

Natasha sighed and rested her forehead on their hands. “I was sure you were dead and I didn’t know what to do.”

“Come here.” Bucky shifted on the bed and moved to give her space. “Please.” 

She obliged and squeezed herself at his side. He rubbed her arm, pulling her as close to him as possible. “I’m okay, okay? A little poisoned bullet isn’t going to kill me.”

“Okay.” She sighed, her breath still shaky. “The shooter. I killed him.”

“Atta girl,” he kissed the top of her head. “You can even say you—”

“Please don’t—”

“—_ avenged _ me.”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.

She sighed. “Wish I did.”

They stayed quiet for a long time just holding each other under the dull hospital light. It was night time, apparently, and Steve wasn't going to come back until morning. 

"What are you afraid of?" It probably wasn't right to ask her then, when she's finally calmed down, but a lot has been revealed to him that night and he wanted to look for more answers while she seemed willing to share.

"Naming this cat." A vague answer. He expected nothing less. "I can feed it once in a while and if I keep my distance it won't hurt me. If I name it, it becomes real, it makes it mine. And nothing of mine ever sticks."

"Is the cat… me?" 

"_ No. _ The cat is our relationship. Keep up, James." She nuzzled against his neck then, her voice soft. "I really… like… you." 

He chuckled but it made him wince. "Well, that's a relief." 

"I thought it'd just be fun, you know, no strings attached." She sighed and pulled away so that she could look at him properly. "I freaked out when you started showing signs of attachment."

"Jesus. 'Signs of attachment'? Are you talking to me in your mission report voice right now?" 

"Shut up." She hit his chest and he flinched but he found that he didn't care that it hurt, he reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear instead. "Let me speak or else you'll never hear it from me ever." 

"I'm all ears." 

"When you went to Russia, _ I _ started showing signs of attachment. I had to ask Sharon where you were, which towns you were going through. I _ texted _ Steve." She lied back down but this time, she made sure she kept her eyes on Bucky. "I thought that was it when you left my apartment that night and I couldn't bear it. Because I was _ attached _." 

All this time he was an idiot, he realized. She's been there, taking care of him, and he still refused to believe anything serious was happening. "I should die more often."

Another hit. "Do that again and I'll kill you myself." 

"I'd gladly die by your hand, Natasha."

"You're an idiot,” she said, and he agreed. For someone considerably smart, he was dumb enough to think that whatever they had was one-sided. Had he just been that out of practice or was he really that dense? Everything suddenly started making more sense with her.

Natasha moved closer towards him and he held her there for the remainder of their night. She told him that Liho was due at the vet’s for that follow up shot and that she didn’t come home the other night, which worried her. Bucky found that he liked getting these little updates, that this was her sharing her life with him—something he never gave much thought to before. She wasn't straightforward and she was good at hiding her feelings and he doubted those things would change any time soon despite her revelation that night but he didn't mind. As long as she was with him, he'd be fine. That would be enough.

It was early in the morning when she slipped out of bed to stretch and fix her hair. She was checking her messages when his door was shoved open, followed by a booming voice that was too loud for how early it was.

“Rise and shine, sleeping beauty!” Sam was carrying in bags of what seemed to look like food. He stopped near the door when he realized Natasha was there. “Oh. I thought you said you were only gonna stop by for a quick visit.”

“Fell asleep.” She shrugged and tucked her phone back into her pocket. Sam continued to watch them carefully, even when Natasha leaned over Bucky and gave him a soft, lingering kiss. “I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah… later.” Bucky froze, the realization that she kissed him in front of another person—a person they both knew—quickly settling into his heart. _ Holy shit. _

The redhead gave Sam a pat on the shoulder on her way out. He was just as stunned as Bucky was. When the door closed behind Natasha, Bucky let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and Sam did the same, a grin spreading across his face.

“Man, you should get yourself killed more often.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're almost at the end!!! Thank you for leaving comments and kudos. I love you guys so much <3


	5. Chapter 5

“I hate you,” Natasha sighed against her seat, lips parted, cheeks pink. Her breathing was uneven as Bucky teased her sensitive nub some more. They were pulled over at the side of god knows what road on the way to Thanksgiving at the Bartons’. Bucky had this bright idea that a road trip would be nice, insisting that it was one of the things he’s always wanted to do. Plus, the Bartons’ farm wasn’t more than two and a half days away, and with the way _ she _ drove, it would have taken them less time. 

They were halfway through their journey when Bucky got bored of looking out the window to see endless green fields and an empty road. He tried reading, tried watching something, even tried listening to music, but it was no good. Somehow, his hand wandered onto Natasha’s lap and the rest was history. 

“That’s not what you said the other day,” he kissed her neck, sucking gently on the skin there as his hand busied itself in her pants. Her breath hitched and she let out a breathy moan when she came.

Natasha pushed him off and slipped off her pants completely before she moved to straddle his lap in his seat, kissing him hungrily as she worked on his own pants—first the belt, then the buttons. This wasn’t the road trip he imagined. It was at least a hundred times better. 

Bucky groaned when he felt her hands on him, his fingers digging into her sides as she took her precious time teasing him. Maybe he deserved it, but he was already painfully hard. She was about to position herself above him when her phone started ringing.

“Shit.” She pulled away and searched for her phone.

“No,” he held onto her, trying so hard to keep her in place, but she eventually scooped up her phone from where it had fallen onto the floor (where her pants were). She showed him the screen. Sharon. He groaned, resting his head on the crook of her neck.

“Hey,” Natasha said into the phone. “I’ll put you on speaker, okay? I’m driving.” 

Bucky’s hand slid in between them, fingers teasing her again as he started nipping at her shoulder. Natasha held onto the seat behind him while her other hand gripped onto the phone tightly.

“Hey, what time are you guys gonna get here? We just landed and Laura wants to know everyone’s ETAs.” 

“Um,” Natasha pulled the phone away from her face as she let out a sigh. “Maybe tomorrow morning if you’d let me break the speed limit.”

“You’re _ not _breaking the speed limit.” It was Steve. “Bucky said he was hitching a ride with you.”

“Yeah, he is. He’s—” Natasha paused, hand gripping on Bucky’s arm as a sort of warning. He grinning at her and placed a kiss on her lips before his mouth latched onto a spot just under her jaw and started sucking there. “He’s asleep.”

Bucky chuckled again and moved her closer against him so that she could feel just how much he wanted her. She groaned against his neck, pulling the phone away again so that their friends wouldn’t hear.

“When he wakes up, make him drive. Can’t believe he’s making you do all the work.”

Natasha pulled away from Bucky and pinned him against the seat with her hand around his neck. He probably shouldn’t have been enjoying this as much as he was, but seeing her trying to modulate her voice and keep calm was a delicious sight. He was a lucky bastard.

“Did you bring that wine I told you I forgot to buy?” Sharon spoke before Natasha could talk, which she was thankful for. She might have restrained Bucky’s mouth for now, but his hands were still all over her and it wasn’t helping. 

“Uh-huh.” She moved her hips slightly, rocking against him. “Bought extra bottles just in case.”

“That’s good. I think we’re going to need it. The kids were asking for you.”

Natasha tossed her head back as she continued her movements, sighing quietly as her friend talked on the other side of the line, her hand still latched around his neck. He was about to lose it.

“Hey, Sharon, we’ll talk to you later okay?” He called out. “Bad reception here in the middle of nowhere.” He reached for the phone in Natasha’s hand and fumbled with it a bit.

“Bucky? I thought you were aslee—” 

He turned the phone off for good measure and tossed it to the backseat for good measure. Bucky wasted no time getting his girlfriend off while also chasing his own release. He imagined what their car must have looked like from the outside, rocking on the side of the highway. They still haven’t told anyone about the nature of their relationship and getting arrested for having sex in public was probably not the best way to break the news but he didn’t care. Thankfully though, no one bothered them for the rest of their afternoon.

Natasha just came a third time when she slumped over, panting against his neck. Her shirt was unbuttoned, bra askew, Bucky didn’t know where his own clothes were but he honestly couldn’t give a shit. He was drawing circles on her lower back, as she eased herself down from her high.

“I fucking love you, Natasha,” he admitted, his own heart pounding loudly against his chest. He’d been scared to say so before, but now it didn’t really matter anymore.

She chuckled. “Are you serious?”

“Never been more serious in my life.”

“We just had sex on the side of the road.” She pulled herself off of him to look at him better, brows furrowed. Was it a mistake to admit it? Did she not feel the same? “We were in a fancy hotel room the other night and you choose now of all times to profess your undying love?”

“Hey, I never said it was undying.” Even though it probably was.

“You’re an idiot,” she kissed him, smiling against his lips. “I love you, too.”

  


* * *

  


"How long have you and Nat been together?"

Bucky was in the kitchen, helping out with the cooking because Steve assigned him there like he owned the god damn place. When he and Natasha arrived the day after their roadside activities, most of the guests were already there. Natasha was sharing a room with Wanda, Sharon and Steve were inseparable, and Bucky was going to be crashing on the couch, apparently. He's only met Clint a couple of times since he was technically retired, but the guy's been wary of him. 

The Winter Soldier shrugged, feigning ignorance and continued washing the dishes. He didn't even know why he was dodging the question when Sam already knew... somewhat. 

"Hey, Winter, they don't call me Hawkeye for nothing." He was near the stove where some sort of stew was cooking. Bucky could feel his eyes on the back of his head. "You better be good to her or else I'll kill you myself is all I'm saying." 

"Who's killing who?" Sharon walked into the kitchen and headed straight for the fridge. She grabbed a water bottle and leaned against the counter as she drank. She'd been busy hanging out with Natasha and the kids. 

"Me. Killing him," Clint explained. 

"Oh. Nat wouldn't like that." 

Bucky stopped washing the dishes then, confused. He turned to Sharon slowly, wiping his hands on the dish towels and cocking an eyebrow as if to ask, _'what the fuck'_. 

"What?" She smiled innocently but he could see that she was having too much fun with this. 

"What do you know?" 

"Most things. Who did you think she called that morning after New Year's?" _ Goddammit. _ Bucky sighed and rubbed a hand over his face while Sharon continued. "Bobbi knows, too, because she was there when Nat called me. Sam figured it out early. Steve put two and two together when you took a freaking bullet for her, who then told me but I already knew." 

He looked over to Clint then, who was stirring the pot, expecting him to have some kind of magical answer. "Don't look at me. I'm just Hawkeye." 

Bucky groaned. "Does the whole world know?"

"I think, at one point, you were the only one who didn't, Bucky," Sharon said.

"What's going on?" Natasha appeared at the doorway with glitter on her face. Her eyes traveled between the two blondes in the kitchen and then to Bucky's face full of surprise. He wanted so badly to just disappear with her again, to forget everyone else. Sharon started laughing and Natasha shot her a look.

"What? I wasn't the one sending death threats just now," Sharon shrugged, took her water bottle, and escaped from the kitchen. 

"You told them?" He was trying so hard not to say anything to anyone, to dodge questions when they were hurled in his direction, and it was all for nothing? 

"Again, _no one_ told me anything,” Clint physically raised his hands over his head in surrender after having a taste of the stew and walked backward, away from the kitchen, disappearing into the back porch. 

Natasha stood across the kitchen island from Bucky with a look on her face. Was she seriously enjoying this, seeing him so flustered? He took off the apron he’d wrapped around his waist and wiped his hands on a towel again and she just watched. When he made a move for the fridge to get a drink, she blocked his way, a smirk on her face along with the glitter. She _ was _ enjoying this.

“I love you,” she cooed, as if the fact that he looked like a fool was going to be wiped away with the statement. His heart did a little bit so maybe she was onto something after all. He absolutely hated it… except, he didn’t? God, he was so soft on her.

“All this time--”

“I wasn’t trying to make you look stupid. On my side of the fence, the information was pretty contained to just two blonde spies. Clint _just now_ figured out.”

“Why did we even have to hide this in the first place? We could have, I don’t know, been a normal couple.”

“Are we, though? A normal couple, that is.” Natasha quirked an eyebrow and took one step forward, her head tilted back just so she wouldn’t break eye contact when she looked at him.

“You’re so frustrating.” He wiped some of the glitter off her cheek with the back of his fingers. “I could have taken you to dinner, you know, gone dancing and all that.”

“_Dancing?_" Natasha laughed. "I don’t think they dance the same way they did back in your day, old man.”

“Still.” It was his time to move forward, pressing against her and tilting her head up further with his fingers. He pressed a kiss on her lips, quick and firm. He tried to pull back but her arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him closer. She kissed him deeper as if they weren’t in Clint Barton’s kitchen. His own arms wrapped around her, a hand cradling the back of her head to support her.

“Auntie Nat?” It was only the sound of small footsteps stopping on its tracks on the hardwood that made Bucky pull back. A tiny boy was near the entryway with a drawing full of glitter in one hand and a juice box in the other.

“Nate--”

“Auntie Nat has cooties!” The boy yelled as loud as he could before running back down the hall to announce to everyone in the house that his Auntie Nat had been kissing Mr. Barnes and that she was thus infected with cooties. Bucky didn’t even know what that meant and Natasha only laughed against his chest.

"Traitor."

“Guess the news is officially out,” he shrugged and took Natasha’s face in his hands to kiss her one last time before he took her hand and led her towards the living room where everyone else was listening to Clint’s son create a plan to disinfect Natasha from the cooties. Whatever those were, he was sure there was no disinfecting her from them if he had any say about it.

As Bucky tried asking Sharon what cooties were supposed to be, he felt Natasha squeeze his hand, her thumb running along his skin. She looked up at him and smiled as Nate wrapped his arms around her legs, claiming that he'll save her. Bucky smiled back, nodded, and let go. They weren't a normal couple, definitely not. She still insisted on squeezing in between the kids when dinner was ready and he still slept on the couch that night. But on their way back to the city, after they'd returned the rental car and made their way home, he pulled her in for a kiss in front of their apartment building in broad daylight and she let him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't want to end this which is probably why the ending is so weird, but I hope you all still like it! Thank you so much for reading. I love reading through your comments and talking to you guys. Kudos are always appreciated too! <3


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